


it's ok, you're ok

by Fadeddancer



Category: Henry Stickmin Series (Video Games)
Genre: Fluff, How Do I Tag, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, M/M, Nightmares, Selectively Mute Henry Stickmin, Triple Threat Ending | TT (Henry Stickmin), Valiant Hero Ending | VH (Henry Stickmin), hyperfixation go BRRRRRRRR, i gave ellie a girlfriend fight me, i love ellie but she just doesn't quite fit into the story here, i'm shipping stick figures now, it's only mentioned though don't worry, the stickmen are gay
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-14
Updated: 2020-09-14
Packaged: 2021-03-06 21:47:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,741
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26455876
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fadeddancer/pseuds/Fadeddancer
Summary: Henry has nightmares. He doesn't really want to reach out to anyone, but ends up doing so anyway. It's almost a good thing you can't delete texts once they're sent.
Relationships: Charles Calvin/Henry Stickmin
Comments: 10
Kudos: 334





	it's ok, you're ok

Henry woke with a start, breathing ragged, a cold sweat making his skin clammy. He sat up and hugged his knees to his chest, loosely wrapping his arms around them. His breath came unevenly as images from his most recent (and most recurring) nightmare replayed in his head, relentless, unforgiving.  
The chill of the winter night seeped into his room, and the patchwork quilt on his bed did little to stop it. The air was too cold, made the back of his throat sore as he tired to take deep breaths.  
He grabbed his phone off his nightstand, perhaps at first just to distract himself from his own mind. It didn’t work.  
Before he was fully aware of what he was doing, Charles’ contact information was staring back at him from the little screen. His thumb hovered over the ‘message’ button. He shivered, maybe not completely due to the cold.  
It wasn’t that bad, he could ride this one out, no need to bother him at such a late hour. He didn’t need to talk. This was fine. He definitely didn’t need to talk to the man he just saw get blown to smithereens for the umpteenth time.

This little routine, waking up, denying his need for the other human’s support, and going back to sleep, only to watch him die again until morning, had gone on for weeks, and would continue into the foreseeable future. Unless someone else decided to get involved in Henry’s personal struggles, he was completely fine with keeping it all to himself. Fortunately, Charles knew Henry well. His little tics that conveyed emotion, every insignificant shift in his expression, all the little tell-tale signs of struggle that Henry forgot to hide.

Charles had noticed early after the Toppats had been defeated that Henry was a little… off. He didn’t know how, or why, but something was off. Something was wrong. Faint violet circles formed under his usually bright, mischievous eyes. He stared off at nothing more often. His signing was slowed, even when communicating with Charles himself, who was quite fluent.  
He stopped stargazing.  
The pilot wanted to ask what was wrong, he really did. But every time, he stopped, because he knew that Henry would just deny it and say he was fine, give a reassuring smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes, tell Charles not to worry about him, which in turn would only make Charles worry even more.

So when Charles’ phone lit up with a text from Henry at an ungodly hour on a night with no moon, Charles was there to reply immediately.

He had always been a light sleeper, so all his notifications were turned off. Except for any texts from Henry. Or Ellie. Sometimes she needed someone to hang with at night, and that was alright with Charles. (He got less late-night texts from her now, since she was in a stable relationship with a very nice barista she’d met at a local coffee shop.)

Charles turned over in his bed at the sound, groggily dragging his phone off its charging cable and squinting at the screen.

 _hey_ , is all the text read. But the gray bubbles at the bottom of the screen appeared, and Charles waited almost impatiently for Henry to finish typing.

_sorry. it’s late. you’re probably sleeping_

_No, it’s okay! I’m awake! You need to talk?_

Henry went quiet on the other end for a while. Charles started to get worried. He sent several short, separate messages, hoping to get a response out of him.

_sorry  
yes  
can you come over?_

Henry’s anxiety spiked as he sent the message. Why would Charles want to come over at this hour of the night? Did he even have a way of getting to his flat? Would he hate Henry for even asking? He swiftly corrected his mistake,

_only if you can, i mean  
if you want to  
i’m sorry_

It was Charles’ turn to take a long time to reply. Tears pooled in Henry’s eyes, only held back by the fact that his eyes were already too puffy to let them spill. He put down his phone, hands shaking too much to hold it steady anymore. His head felt too heavy for his neck to hold up. He held his face in his hands until the notification sound played.

_At your front door. Let me in?_

As quickly as he could without getting a headrush from standing too fast, Henry made his way to the door and opened it, sliding the chain lock out of place. The door made no sound, and swung easily to reveal Charles, standing awkwardly in the hallway, missing his signature headphones. He must have been in a hurry to get here. Henry felt guilty for making him forget them. For making him get up so late and come racing over to his aid.

Charles studied Henry’s face in the low light. His hair was messy, eyes still groggy with sleep (or lack thereof), hands stuffed in a hoodie pocket. He stepped into the apartment and closed the door. “How about we sit down?” he said, voice quiet and lower than Henry had ever heard. It was a strange contrast to how he normally sounded on missions, upbeat and optimistic, even in the worst situations. In all his nearly 30 years of life, Henry had never met anyone else as happy as Charles. Perhaps this was only because he’d never grown close to anyone besides Charles and Ellie, never got to see other people as he often saw his two best friends. So he didn’t have many people to choose from in the first place.

The shorter man guided his distressed host toward the couch gently, placing a hand on his elbow. They sat down and faced each other, their knees touching without either noticing much. Henry took a few deep breaths and began explaining, his hands slow and shaky as he signed.

_Nightmares. Every night, for a long time. Didn’t want to wake anyone up. Don’t know what changed this time. Worst one._

“I’m not mad that you woke me up, okay?” Charles explained gently, hoping Henry would at least look up at him instead of staring at the couch cushions. “I’d do anything for you.”

Henry went a little red at that, eyes darting up to Charles, who’d just realized what he’d said. He had the ‘oh shit, I just said that out loud’ look on his face. “I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean that, I just, y’know, it seemed, fitting? To say? Or at least think? Because I didn’t mean to say it out loud! Oh wow, okay, I just—”

Henry cut him off, grabbing his arm and making him look him in the eye. _It’s okay_ , he signed. _I’m okay_.

“Well, no, you’re not, but that’s alright,” Charles stated, confusing Henry. It must’ve shown on his face, because he continued. “You need to admit that you’re not okay first. Then you can start getting better.”

Henry nodded hesitantly.

“Do you want to talk about your nightmares?”

Another, slightly delayed, nod. A deep breath.

 _Always you_ , he started, and Charles might have blushed at that. It was too dark to tell. Well, no, it wasn’t, but Henry thought he’d save his partner a little grace and pretend he didn’t notice.  
_Things happen. You and Ellie. Other timelines, pasts._

“Timelines.. I remember you saying something about them. Like you can see different futures, where you made different choices?”

Henry nodded.

“What… what happens to me? and Ellie?”

A pause. Henry rubbed his fingers across the knuckles of his other hand anxiously.

_Death._

Silence followed. A small “Oh,” from Charles. Quiet tears slid down Henry’s cheeks.

 _Please don’t leave_ , Henry signed hesitantly, as Charles looked increasingly more uncomfortable, or like he had something to say, like he wanted to shout at Henry for calling him out to his pathetic, freezing cold little flat in the middle of the night just to complain about his nightmares and maybe his tiny unrequited crush. He almost hoped Charles would leave so he could have a breakdown without having to show his partner the mess he was.

Charles grabbed Henry’s shoulder and pulled him into a tight hug. “I’m not going anywhere. I promise.” Henry let out a shaky breath he’d forgot he was holding, and allowed his body to be wracked with sobs and uneven breaths. Charles stayed, holding Henry tight.

“Thank you.” Henry’s voice came quietly, raspy and rough from lack of use. Charles almost felt unworthy of hearing it.

“You don’t need to thank me,” he said with a breath resembling a laugh. A goofy smile was plastered on his face. “I don’t want me to leave either.”

Henry buried his face into Charles’ shoulder and breathed evenly. He smelled faintly of engine oil, but mostly of just.. Charles. He didn’t notice himself drifting off into unconsciousness until it was too late, but he knew it was okay. Charles didn’t want to leave either, he’d just said so.

Charles, upon realizing Henry had fallen asleep, gently maneuvered him to rest on the length of the couch. He hadn’t noticed the biting cold of the flat until he had to move away from Henry slightly. Henry’s breathing hitched as he was moved, and he clung ever so slightly to Charles’ shirt. “I’m not leaving,” he whispered again. He pressed his forehead against Henry’s and thought all about how much he admired the other, brought to the surface all the emotions he’d tried to keep hidden since that day on the airship. He thought about all the things he’d ever loved about Henry, thought about how scared he was to even be near him for fear of earning his disdain, thought about all the times he thought Henry might die and how he’d have to live without him.

He thought about the pure, unbridled love that he felt for the other, the kind of love that comes from the deepest and purest part of the heart.

Charles thought all of this, with his head gently touching Henry’s, and Henry got the message. He exhaled slowly, his body relaxed, and Charles moved to fit his head under Henry’s chin. “Love you, too,” came Henry’s raspy, unused voice.

There were no nightmares that night, and only a few the nights after. Warmth came into Henry’s life, full and lively and loving, in the form of one Charles Calvin.

**Author's Note:**

> This is just a little thing I wrote because there isn't nearly enough fanfiction for this fandom tbh. A bit overdone, I knowwwww I'm sorry, but they're so cute and I love them with my whole heart you guys  
> Also this is my first work on this site, so sorry for any formatting problems or anything.  
> Kudos, bookmarks, comments, critiques, etc. are all appreciated!


End file.
